


do it like the sky just caught on fire.

by milominderbinder



Series: maia's shameless fic a day in the month of may [23]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Elevator Sex, Ferris Wheel Sex, Funeral Sex, Gym Sex, M/M, Other People's Beds Sex, Pool Table Sex, Restaurant Bathroom Sex, cemetery sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:00:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milominderbinder/pseuds/milominderbinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey can't keep their hands off each other.  This sometimes gets them into odd situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do it like the sky just caught on fire.

They get to the carnival late, so by the time they make it to the ferris wheel, the sun is setting. Still, they wait in the ten-second long queue and climb aboard.  There are only two other people riding it this late, and Mickey’s complaining about how creepy it is to be swung around in midair in the darkness, and then, just when they reach the top, the ferris wheel stops.

There’s a call from down below, a technician, “Shit - sorry, sorry!  Hang on!”

Ian and Mickey share a glance.  There’s a moment of silence, and then, the same voice from down below, “hold tight!  We’ll have you guys in five minutes - uh - make that ten!”

Mickey groans.

“I fuckin’ _told_ you the carnival was a bad idea,” he complains. Ian just rolls his eyes, and there’s a few moments of silence, Mickey scowling down at the ground so far below them.  Then, the same technician’s voice comes from the ground again.

“Make that fifteen minutes!”

Mickey groans again, and Ian lets his head loll back against the seat, already bored.  He doesn’t even  _like_ ferris wheels that much, he just figured it was a typical carnival-type activity that they should try, since he was attempting to squeeze as much out of this pseudo-date as he possibly could.

“How ‘bout a handjob?” he asks casually, a moment later, when it becomes apparent that they're gonna be stuck for a while.

Mickey considers it for a moment, still scowling, before sighing and saying, “Yeah, alright.  Don’t rock the seat too much, though.”

He’s getting his dick out before Ian can even reply.

\--

Ian enters the pizza place bathroom ten seconds after Mickey does.

“That was the least subtle we’ve ever been,” he says, even as Mickey’s grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a kiss.  “Fiona - mmf!  Uh, Fiona actually catcalled as I was walking away.”

“Who the fuck cares?” Mickey mumbles.  “You look hot eating spaghetti, s’not my fault.”

He kisses Ian again, but Ian pulls away after a second.

“At least lock the door,” he says, grinning and running his tongue across his lips.  Mickey turns away and does; when he turns back, Ian has his shirt off, and is already pulling out a condom.

\--

“Kev’s gonna catch us.”

“He’s not, he doesn’t open up for another fifteen minutes, and he’s  _never_ here early." 

“You’re saying we you think we’re gonna be done in fifteen minutes?  We better set a fucking timer.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to fuck on a pool table.  You gonna get on me or what?”

\--

“This is creepy, Mick,” Ian mutters.  “Are you sure we’re not gonna get haunted or something?”

Mickey laughs a little under his breath, shoving Ian’s shoulder as they continue to walk through the cemetery.

“It’s not that creepy,” he responds.  “A crypt’s a good place to stash drugs - it’s not like they get much fuckin’ foot traffic.”

“Yeah, but there’s still dead _bodies_ in there, which makes it _creepy as shit_.”

“Shut up and pass me the crowbar.”

When they’re in the crypt, Mickey throws his backpack, which is full of coke, into the corner.  That’s his only task - he’s not even totally sure why he’s doing it, just that Iggy’s gonna pay him, which is really all he _needs_ to know.  Still, after all the effort, it feels a little anticlimactic; he turns to look at Ian, who is shifting from foot to foot in the entrance, glancing around the place warily.

“Hey, y’know, we’ve got this place to ourselves as long as we want it,” Mickey says.  He raises one eyebrow suggestively, reaching over to grab Ian by his belt loops, pull him close.

Ian looks unsure for a second, before sighing heavily, grinning, and pulling off his shirt.

“We’re not doing it by the fucking skeleton, though,” he says.  “Up against the wall or we’re going home.”

\--

The elevator stalls ten seconds after Ian and Mickey get into it.

So, naturally, Mickey’s first response is to drop to his knees and start mouthing at Ian’s dick through his jeans.

“ _Mickey_ ,” Ian complains, though he can’t quite stop himself from rocking into the touch.  “Are you kidding right now?  We’re going to look at _apartments,_ this is like, proper grown-up shit.  We can’t turn up looking like we had sex ten seconds before.”

“Blowjobs and sex are two very different things,” Mickey argues, starting to tug down Ian’s zipper.

A moment later, Mickey’s mouth is around Ian’s dick, and Ian decides he can’t really argue with that.

\--

“Dude, are you kidding me, I know this is the worst fuckin’ gym in the world but it’s not _deserted,_ anyone could just walk in on us right now.”

“That’s why we’re going in a shower stall, dumbass,” Ian says.  They’re in the changing room at their gym, after a long fucking workout that Mickey completely wishes he hadn’t been a part of, and they’re both naked.  Which isn’t unusual, for them or for the gym changing rooms, except that as soon as the one other occupant had put his pants on and left, Ian had pushed Mickey up against the lockers and started rubbing their dicks together.  And now, two seconds later, Mickey finds Ian dragging him by the hands to the showers, which thank fuck aren’t communal, but are still only blocked off by a flimsy looking curtain.

“If we get kicked out of this gym nowhere else is _ever_ gonna take us,” Mickey says.  It takes him twice as long as usual to get the words out; Ian’s kissing his neck as they stumble into the shower stall, and it’s distracting.  “This was - _fuck keep doing that -_ this was your idea, this - this getting fit crap - oh shit -”

Ian pulls away and grins.  Clearly he knows he’s won.

Mickey doesn’t grace him with any other words, just turns around and spreads his legs.

\--

“This is my _little sister’s bed,_ oh god this is so gross.”

“We’ll wash the fucking sheets, okay, it’s not like we’ve got much choice.”

“I gotta close my eyes if we’re doing this, her room’s too fucking _pink._ ”

“Whatever, just get the fuck _in_ me already.”

\--

“Are we gonna get sent to hell for this?” Mickey asks.

“Probably,” Ian replies, shrugging.  Apparently eternal torment doesn’t bother him too much.

The funeral’s still going on outside - a sob fest for some long lost Gallagher cousin who’d huffed too much glue and accidentally offed himself.  Ian’d never even met the guy, so Mickey’s not totally sure why they’re there.  Except they’re not really _there;_ the service is happening, and Ian and Mickey are in the church bathroom, jerking each other off.

“Okay, whatever.  Hell’s worth it for how hot you look in a suit.”

**Author's Note:**

> for the fic a day in may. when i asked for suggestions of weird places ian and mickey could have sex for the end of 'right place, right time, maybe tonight', i got so many FLAWLESS suggestions, i just had to give them their own fic! so thanks to: mlkovch, moonshinekinney, sktaylor, rightnexttoyouleeyum, ladygagetout, and gyllenhardy for these ideas!
> 
> also i've wanted to use this song as a title for so long omg i am so happy now
> 
> send me prompts on tumblr: [mickeymilk](http://mickeymilk.tumblr.com)


End file.
